


To Tell The Truth

by seriousfic



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-12-04 12:16:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/710690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seriousfic/pseuds/seriousfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What to get Emma Swan for her birthday: Clothes? Chocolates? A truth spell cast on her arch-nemesis?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Emma's birthday party was more like a street festival. Town square was taken over by booths of jugglers, mummers, animal tricks, and face-painters. There were men on stilts, men dressed as mythological beasts, women dressed as men. And there were more lutes than a Ren Faire.

 

Emma could barely stand it. Once you'd seen one firebreather, you'd seen them all. She missed her usual birthday celebration: lots of alcohol. Lots. Take however much alcohol you're thinking of, then double it. Now you've got it.

 

On the plus side, being a princess meant the whole team gave Emma presents. She wasn't old enough to not find that cool. Presents! Leroy got her dwarven chainmail that she just knew she'd hardly ever wear, Belle got her some detective novels (because she was sheriff, got it), and Ruby got her a flea collar.

 

“It works great!”

 

“That's not really a problem for me.”

 

“And with this, _it won't be.”_

 

Regina came last. With a look that shared Emma's feelings on firebreathers, she made lively steps through the street festival to the table of Emma's presents, which she bypassed to shove her gift into Emma's hands. “Open it now. I want to know if you like it or not.”

 

Emma examined the large rectangular box in her hands. It didn't appear to be ticking. “When have you ever gotten me anything I liked?”

 

Regina clicked her tongue in challenge. “Potty-trained son—and _that_ was not easy. And then there's the apple tart I made you.”

 

“It was poisoned!”

 

“Yes, but it was delicious.”

 

Giving up—and figuring that if she opened it now, Regina would be caught in the blast radius—Emma unwrapped her gift. It was a clothing store box, with a blouse inside that Emma didn't hate. In fact, holding it up to her chest, Emma kinda liked it. “Thank you,” she uhhed, “it's nice,” she ummed.

 

Regina shrugged. “I could've gotten you something more expensive, but I wanted something small so you wouldn't know how I really feel about you.”

 

Emma set the blouse down. “Are you feeling alright? Usually something like that would be under at least two layers of sarcasm.”

 

Regina's eyes widened slightly. “I seem to be having trouble speaking with my usual wit and eloquence. Is this what it feels like to be you?”

 

“Yes!” Emma shot back, then thought she shouldn't.

 

“That would be my gift to you, your highness,” Gold said, making his way past the firebreather with a swipe of his cane. The firebreather coughed sparks indignantly. “With all the trouble our former mayor has caused through her lies, I thought you'd appreciate hearing something else from her for a change. The truth, and nothing but the truth.”

 

Regina swore in realization. “The leftover pizza in the fridge.”

 

“Not leftover at all,” Gold chortled. “Who can resist finding a slice of cold pizza in the vegetable drawer?”

 

“So wait,” Emma said. “Until my birthday is over, Regina has to tell the truth?”

 

“I didn't say anything like that, but it sounds about right. Probably wear off by eleven instead of twelve, though.”

 

“Finishing early as usual, Gold?” Regina snarled at him.

 

“Planning to watch Dance Moms this evening, _as usual?”_

 

“Yes. Damnit!”

 

Emma had been watching all this like an onlooker at a naked tennis match. “ _This is the greatest thing that's ever happened to me.”_

 

“Not the birth of your son?” Regina asked incredulously.

 

“It was a twenty-hour labor. Jack Bauer's had easier days. Hey, what's your favorite color?”

 

Regina replied automatically. “Blue.”

 

“Really? Not black or purple?”

 

“If I could pull off blue, I would,” Regina said snippily. “Now, I may be cursed, but I see no reason not to simply wait it out in my tastefully furnished house, as I find this celebration insufferable already. If you need some magic done _at least_ semi-competently,” said with a glare at Gold, “I'll be catching up on my Proust.”

 

“And masturbating,” Gold added.

 

Regina shot him a look. “Yes,” she said simply. “And it will be hot. Very hot. I moan.” With that, Regina turned on her heel and left.

 

Emma ran after her, pushing the firebreather out of the way.

 

“How much are you being paid for this?” Gold wondered out loud.

 

***

 

Emma caught up with Regina around the corner from the festival, where the lutes were a little muted and they had room to breathe.

 

“Hey, wait up, hey!” Regina paused. 'Who do you think is cuter, Ryan Gosling or Bradley Cooper?”

 

“Ryan Gosling. If that's all...” Regina marched away.

 

Dodging a puppet show, Emma kept up with her. “Hold on, really. Okay, what would it take to get you to spend the day with me?”

 

“Handcuffs,” she answered readily.

 

“What else?”

 

“Ropes, leather straps, silk scarves...”

 

“Because, I was thinking, summer is almost over. Henry will be going back to school soon.”

 

Regina stopped, allowing Emma to circle around and face her. She put her hands on her hips. “Just what are you getting at?”

 

Emma's head tilted smugly, her arms lazily crossed. “Someone has to do back to school shopping. You could get him whatever wardrobe you wanted. Blazers, buttondown shirts, _very short ties...”_

 

Regina tightened her grip on her hips. “He'll just wear year-old jeans every day.”

 

“And what about lunches? Do you want Henry eating in the cafeteria? Or worse, me packing him a lunch?”

 

“You wouldn't dare.”

 

“I can put a Happy Meal in the refrigerator for an afterschool snack. _No one will stop me._ ”

 

It only took a moment's thought before Regina nodded stiffly. “If I get to pick his haircuts.”

 

Emma rolled her eyes. “I think Henry's old enough to decide on his own haircuts.”

 

“You let him get a mohawk, Emma.” Regina's voice could've been sold for five dollars on a hot day.

 

Emma threw up her hands. “First off, it's a brohawk. Second, it looks badass! If he didn't think girls had cooties, he'd be rolling in tang.”

 

Regina stared at Emma a moment before breaking into a smile. “Right now, I'm thinking of shoving my arm up your ass until I can work your mouth like a puppet and make you apologize for being so stupid.”

 

“And that's why you're always smiling at me.”

 

Regina nodded with enthusiasm.

 

“So... who's cuter, Ryan Gosling or Channing Tatum?”

 

“I'm always going to say Ryan Gosling.”

 

***

 

In just an hour, Emma was having her royal portrait painted in the sheriff's office. Usually, she'd argue for a royal Polaroid, but she was happy to sit in place as long as she had Regina on hand. “Alright, madame mayor, I want you to answer me truthfully and with conviction: how did you like Identity Thief?”

 

Regina turned her office chair around in place, the only solace available to her. “The only thing Identity Thief stole was two hours of my life.”

 

Emma clapped her hands. “ _Awesome!_ You're like Gene Shalit without the moustache!”

 

“And with a... a body!” Regina stammered, offended.

 

"More pensive, please," the painter begged Emma. "Unless you want to look like the Joker."

 

"That just sort of happens," Regina told him. She twisted her chair until it faced Emma, with her slunk down in her seat like she'd deflated. “Could you please ask me something embarrassing? It's starting to creep me out that you're just asking me things I would tweet if I were one of those morons with a Twitter account.”

 

Emma, who'd been posing behind her desk with her elbows on the wood like it was a fresh kill, now coiled her arms together. “I don't want to embarrass you, I just want to know one or two things about you. You're so closed off all the time.”

 

Regina protested, straightening in exaggerated dignity. “I am not closed off! I am very open about my feelings.”

 

“Feelings that aren't trying to kill someone.”

 

“Those are valid feelings.”

 

“You can feel other things. Like, you know...” Emma waved her hands. “Hungry.”

 

With a twitch of her heel, Regina's chair was propelled in place again. “Hunger isn't an emotion.”

 

“You know what I mean. Unless you're a psychopath, you don't just feel like killing people.”

 

“Who said I wasn't a psychopath?” Regina was facing entirely away from Emma.

 

Emma turned away.

 

“Hold that look!” the painter said. “That's a great pensive look.”

 

She silenced him with her eyes. “Regina... you don't think of yourself that way, do you?”

 

“Why not?" the back of Regina's head asked. "I'm evil. And an argument could be made for whorish.”

 

“Hold on. Stop. You're under a truth spell and you're calling yourself an evil whore?”

 

“That's even more pensive!” the painter enthused under his breath.

 

“Why differ from the majority opinioin?” Regina asked. Rhetorical.

 

“So almost everyone you've ever met thought you were an evil whore?”

 

Regina nodded. Her foot was on the ground, toggling back and forth, making the chair spin a few degrees this way, then back, then the other way.

 

“Someone must've said you weren't. What about your mom?”

 

“Ah," Regina's head lolled back, "she thought being an evil whore was a good thing.”

 

“Regina..." Emma started, and for the first time in a long while found herself at a loss for words. "You're not.”

 

“And you're wrong about most things, Emma. I don't think this is an exception.”

 

Speechless, Emma got up, took Regina by the hand, and pulled her from her seat. It spun away behind her.

 

“Your highness, the painting!” the painter protested. “I haven't finished your chin!”

 

“Get Mary-Margaret. It'll look the same.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Where are we going?” Regina asked when they were in Emma's Bug. “And why can't we go there in a vehicle not meant to transport clowns?”

 

Emma kept her hands on the wheel and her eyes on the road. She'd felt a lot of things toward Regina since she'd come to Storybrooke, but pity was a new one.

 

Worse, she actually wanted to _do something_ about it. Mary-Margaret was rubbing off on her, twenty-eight years of missed parental influence hitting her all at once. Next she'd be talking to bluebirds.

 

“Do you trust me?”

 

Regina looked over at her wryly. “As far as I can throw you... which is very far, I have magic.”

 

“So you do trust me?”

 

Regina rested her head against the window, a sign of weakness, or at least what Regina's family would take it for. Seeing it made Emma realize they weren't quite enemies anymore—there was some kind of détente between them, settled in when they went for so many weeks without sending poison apples or chainsawing a tree.

 

“Lately you've been developing into one of those 'never tell a lie, never hit a lady' kind of heroes. You have the jaw for it—but it's made you very boring.”

 

Emma huffed, mock-impressed. “Wow. You manage to make me being Superman sound like a bad thing.”

 

“At least you'll have an excuse to wear your underwear on the outside.”

 

“You should talk," Emma glanced over at Regina and found her lips curved in a mutual smile. "I've seen your wardrobe. How many of your queenly dresses are just Wonder-Bras with skirts attached?”

 

Regina gave her an almost pouting look. “Emma, you know those Muslim women who wear hijabs? If they went on spring break, they'd dress like you.”

 

“I don't even know what that means, but my feelings are still hurt.” Teasing rather than mocking, which somehow made all the difference.

 

A thought occurred to Emma, and she had to slam the brakes to have it. If Regina hadn't fastidiously buckled her seatbelt, she would've had a face full of bobblehead dog.

 

"How do I know you're not faking this?"

 

Regina just looked at her, a cat-like look on her face as she decided between outrage and simple superiority. She settled on superiority, and almost purring, said "Unlike some, Sheriff, I never have to fake it."

 

Emma imagined a little cymbal clash, or whatever happened after Mae West made a dick joke on old TV shows. "You and Gold could've gotten together and come up with this whole thing to make me trust you."

 

" _Clearly,_ you're working toward asking me something I would never tell the truth about, so fine. Out with it. _Embarrass_ me."

 

Emma sighed. "That's not why I'm doing this. I don't _want_ to embarrass you."

 

"Then trust me. What possible motive could I have to make myself look pathetic all day?"

 

"I don't know! You're smarter than me, alright, you come up with… schemes! And plots! I just make plans. Not even lists. I don't get gas until the little light comes on in my car."

 

Regina stared at her calmly and Emma felt like she'd just handed Lex Luthor the keys to the Fortress of Solitude. 'You're smarter than me.' She'd hear the end of that never.

 

But Regina simply said "Could you just ask what you need to ask? Idling the car like this cannot be good for your gas mileage."

 

Emma automatically looked away, out through the windshield, before forcing herself to stare at Regina. "What was Snow White like as a child?"

 

A smile bloomed on Regina's face—the same look she got when she thought of turning Emma into Howdy Doody. Clearly, Regina was going to use her license of total honesty to get creative with her feelings. Emma quickly revised her statement.

 

"Aside from the thing with Daniel, because that wasn't her fault and you know it."

 

Regina's eyes cut sideways to Emma like they were chainsaws going through paper mache. "Aside from Daniel's _death_ ," she started, grinding the words in her mouth the same way she'd repeat a dubious claim like 'the Earth is flat' or 'Belle and Ruby are just good friends,' "she was…"

 

And Regina faltered. For the first time in Emma's memory, she stumbled over her words. Regina worked her jaw and redoubled her efforts. "Snow White was…"

 

She stopped fully, now opening her mouth like a dying fish. She actually stuck her tongue out, curling it like she was trying to flick something off the end, before it suddenly retracted back into her mouth. Fuming, she ground her teeth together, next fixing Emma with a stare. Her mouth opened again and air rushed in. She wheezed and sucked like a tomb that'd just been opened.

 

"Aside from Daniel's death," Emma prompted.

 

"Aside from that—" Regina hissed.

 

"Snow White was…"

 

Regina opened her mouth like she was going to scream, then said in a perfectly pleasant voice. "Snow White was a perfect angel as a child. Very well-behaved. Good at math." Then she turned, opened the car door, and vomited on the street.

 

"Okay, you're not faking," Emma said.

 

Regina spat. " _Thank you._ "

 

***

 

"Mom, you're not supposed to come in here yet!" Henry whined loudly, jumping up to block his desk with his body and cover up a bunch of widgets and geegaws that had to be, in some way, shape, or form, Emma's birthday present.

 

Emma looked over at Regina, concerned that hearing the M-word from Henry would have an impact, but Regina's poker face was still. Apparently she'd grown immune to that feeling.

 

"Henry, let's sit," Emma said, and sat down on the bed. Regina did as well, holding her skirt up a little as she did, as if demonstrating the proper way to sit on a bed.

 

Henry sat back down in his chair, trying to stay between Emma and his project. "Hi Regina," he said fitfully.

 

Regina nodded at him. She didn't have that look in her eyes she got when discussing Henry, that ASPCA commercial look. Emma supposed she wouldn't want Henry to see how much he could hurt her.

 

"Look, Henry, it's great you're making me a—" Emma squinted at the desk. "What is that?"

 

"It's a zarf," Regina said.

 

"Regina!" Henry cried.

 

"What's a zarf?" Emma asked.

 

"Don't tell her!" Henry insisted.

 

"It's very useful," Regina said after a pause. Apparently that wasn't good enough for the spell. "It, oh… Θα σας κρατά κούπα καφέ αν σας κούπα δεν έχουν μια λαβή."

 

"Holy… crap," Emma said, censoring herself. "What was that, Vulcan?"

 

"Greek," Regina shrugged.

 

"You speak Greek?"

 

"For twenty-eight years the Curse gave me eternal life; I spent it on improving myself."

 

Emma nodded and held back the many barbs that presented themselves, turning to her son instead.

 

"Henry, I know things have been… tough between you and Regina. And I think it's because she lied to you about some things. And she had her reasons for that, but… the point is, Regina's under a spell right now. She can't lie about anything. So maybe we could all clear the air and wind up trusting each other or something. Christ, I'd make a lousy family counselor."

 

"The _Evil Queen's_ under a spell?"

 

"I'd rather be stabbed by a knife then have you call me that," Regina said. The words popped out of her like a boil had been lanced.

 

Henry just looked at her. Emma too. She had the same indomitable expression as always, but her lips didn't sit together right. It was an unreadable face, but not a happy one.

 

"I'm sorry," Henry said after a moment.

 

"It's alright."

 

"Now do you believe me?" Emma asked him.

 

"Yeah, yeah…" Henry looked at Regina again. "Where do babies come from?"

 

"When a man and a woman have sex, the man's penis ejaculates semen into the woman's uterus. One sperm fertilizes—"

 

Emma clapped her hand over Regina's mouth and felt lips working against the palm of her hand. " _Now?_ "

 

"I guess."

 

Emma took her hand away. "…unless the woman decides to have an abortion," Regina finished. She looked over at Emma. "This is a stupid idea. You're just going to make things worse." And she got up and walked away.

 

Emma caught up with her in the hallway, closing the door behind her. "Regina, your _son_ has no idea what you're really like."

 

Regina wheeled around like she was having a heart attack. "Good!"

 

"Just tell him the truth, Regina. That you've changed. He wants to believe you."

 

"No!" Regina said, stomping up to Emma. "He wants a shiny new mommy who lets him eat ice cream for breakfast and stay up until 2 AM on a school night."

 

"That isn't it—"

  
"It is!"

 

" _He wants a mom he can trust!"_

Regina reared back. Someone had just yelled in her face. She couldn't remember the last time someone had yelled in her face.

 

"Why are you so afraid of him finding out the truth?" Emma asked. "Because the truth isn't that you're the Evil Queen. It's that you're… okay, yeah, you can be a serious bitch, but for God's sake, you _adopted a kid._ Who does that? Nice people!"

 

"He read a book with my story in it and he went to Boston to get a new mom. He doesn't see 'nice'. Just good and evil."

 

"So tell him the good parts of you. Show him you're more than just a story in a book."

 

"He'll hate me even more than he already does."

 

"Or he'll trust you again. Honestly, Regina, you cast a spell you barely understood to move from a medieval world to the 1980s. Is it too much to ask that you talk to your son?"

 

Regina put her hand on her face and slowly dragged it down. She suddenly looked as old as all the years she'd lived. "If this doesn't work, I'm just buying a puppy. No one said kids would be this difficult. Cosby made it look so easy…"

 

Emma clapped her on the back as she went back into Henry's room. He was standing awkwardly behind the door.

 

"I heard yelling."

  
Regina said nothing. The two regarded each other.

 

"That was me," Emma said, and Henry unspooled a little.

 

Regina sat down on the bed, ankles primly crossed.

 

"Should I leave you two alone?" Emma asked.

 

"Yes, Sheriff Swan, although you're about a year late in asking."

 

Henry gave her an unimpressed look that he definitely got from his adopted rather than biological mother.

 

"What's the problem?" Regina asked. "It's a truth spell."

 

"I'll have some wine ready." Emma departed for the kitchen.

 

Regina just sat there, her hands on her knees instead of folded in her lap. It was the kind of thing Henry had been raised to pick up on. "Ask me something," she said, with just a little bit of challenge, more pleading, in her voice. "Or have you already written me off?"

 

"This is weird," Henry said plainly. "What would you ask your mom, if she couldn't lie?"

 

"Why I wasn't good enough for her," Regina said, and grew a look of surprise. She stood up, uncomfortable. "I'd be thorough about it. I'd ask her why power was more important than my happiness, things like that, but mostly I'd want to know why the things I wanted were always unimportant and the things she wanted for me were all-consuming."

 

"Mostly?" Henry pressed, after a pause. He wasn't used to seeing his mother like this.

 

"I'd ask if she loved me." There was a smile Regina had that kept almost everyone from knowing how sad she was. She wore it now. "It wouldn't matter either way, but I would like to know."

 

"Do you love me?"

 

"Of course I do!" Regina looked down at him, wanting to kneel down and embrace him, but not sure if she would let him. Unknowingly, she let her eyes implore him. "There's no one I love more in this world."

 

Henry stood there, with a look of consternation that Emma wore in difficult moments, emotions ganging up on her and messing with hard-worn cynicism. "Okay."

 

"Okay?" Regina almost laughed. "Yes. Of course. It doesn't matter either way."

 

"It does," he said. "You're not Cora. I'm not afraid of you. I just worry you'll hurt someone or someone will hurt you and things'll be bad again."

 

"Bad?"

 

"Like when I figured out what was going on and you tried to make me think I was crazy. You could've told me the truth! Emma believed me!"

 

"Emma didn't have an entire town of her sworn enemies thinking she was their humble mayor." Regina crossed her arms, some of her old poise back. "The first day the Curse was broken, a lynch mob came for me! What if you had been there? You could've been hurt! Or if I'd defended myself, what then?"

 

"You wanted me to be crazy for my own good?"

 

"No!" Regina's hand tightened on her own arm. "I wanted things to go back to normal. You went off to Boston, by yourself, and you could've been hurt! Or a dozen other times when you almost got killed, playing your little game. I could've told you, and maybe you would've accepted what I'd done, or you could've tried even harder to fight me. What if you'd come across Jefferson, or King George, or Ruby after she'd changed? I left them harmless, but if you caught them at the wrong moment…"

 

"So it was all to protect me?"

 

"No," Regina said. The word forced its way up her throat like the first spout of steam from a geyser. "No, I wanted to stay Mayor. I wanted them to stay in the endings I'd written them. Why should they all be happier than me? They never did anything to earn happiness. They never suffered the way I did. I wanted to win. That's all. And then Emma came and everything spiraled out of control."

 

"You tried to kill her."

 

"She would've taken you away from me. Don't lie to me. She tried to steal you, didn't she?"

 

Henry's eyes shifted, on the defensive a little. "She wanted to protect me from you."

 

"How would she have raised you? How would she provide for you? Henry, where would she even _find time for you_? Would she stop chasing bail-jumpers every night at nine to tuck you in?"

 

"You could've let her stay," Henry insisted, but there was something broken in his vehemence. He sounded unsure of himself. Regina didn't know which parent he got that from. "She wouldn't have fought you if you hadn't started it."

 

"All I knew about her was that she was a convicted felon, and I was supposed to trust her with my son?"

 

"You could've gotten to know her."

 

Regina stopped, a furious argument on her lips. They dried. She licked them. "I could've done a lot of things."

 

Henry calmed down a little. Subconsciously, he'd been expecting her to blow up. He didn't know where he'd gotten the idea, but somewhere in his psyche was an image out of a fairy tale—Regina going mad with power, striking out at everyone and everything. But the more Regina talked, the further and further away it got.

 

"Do you trust Emma now?"

 

"I trust her intentions," Regina said. "I think she's willing to put your needs ahead of her own. If I have to share you with someone, I'm alright with it being her."

 

"And what about Mary-Margaret?"

 

"What about her?" Regina asked, eyebrow raising warningly.

 

"Do you want to kill her?"

 

"No!"

 

"What about other people? Are you planning to hurt anyone in Storybrooke?"

 

" _No,"_ Regina assured him. "I'm not that person anymore."

 

"How come?"

 

Regina stood still, then chuckled. She sat back down on the bed and cracked her neck. "You."

 

"Me?"

 

She nodded. "You showed them I was capable of more than just pain and destruction. And once it became clear that, to some degree, they could pardon my behavior… well, I thought I could start over. Power never made me happy. I kept trying for more power, greater vengeance, but I just ended up hurting more people and having more people hate me and it went on and on… it's like your Batman comics."

 

"Batman?" Henry asked, his quizzical expression twisting as far as it could go. Regina imagined his brain popping out his ears.

 

"He can never get his parents back, but he keeps fighting and fighting. And for him, that's a good thing. He saves people. But for me, it was very unhealthy. I kept losing people. My mother, my father… And I realized that if I kept it up, I would lose you too. So I decided that no matter how hard it got, I wouldn't be who I'd been. They could hate me all they wanted, I wouldn't let it change me. Because I'd have you."

 

"But you haven't," Henry said, and his voice was small and weak. "I mean, I've been at Emma's… we barely see each other."

 

"You don't hate me," Regina said. "You don't look at me like I looked at my mother. That's a lot more than what I had as Mayor. It's _real._ I held onto the Curse just because it was mine, but you I hold onto… well, because you make me happy. You--" She stopped. "Henry, you're crying."

 

He cried like Regina would if she could. Silently, with tears running down his cheeks like blood from a wound. "I don't want you to go back."

 

"Go back?"

 

"You said that if it weren't for me, you'd still be the Evil Queen."

 

"Henry, that's not what I meant—"

 

"I don't want you to hurt people anymore! They always hurt you back and sometime they're going to kill you! I just want you to be nice!"

 

"I'm trying—"

 

"Everyone tries to be nice to you and you just make fun of them!"

 

"They don't try," Regina said, restraining herself to a didactic tone. The words flowed out of her, so easy, so true. "They handle me with kid gloves because I'm dangerous and I _accept_ that. It's what I deserve."

 

"Emma doesn't."

 

"That's what I like about her." Regina paused, frowning. She tried clearing her throat. "I don't think this spell is working right."

 

"You like Emma?" Henry asked, full of hope.

 

"She's always honest with me. We fight, but I prefer that to her pretending to like me when she really can't stand the sight of me." Regina wagged her finger in front of herself, trying to signal something as she helplessly continued. "And now she's using this stupid goddamn spell to try and fix things between us instead of embarrassing me, like I would do in her place. I love her."

 

Finally, Regina stopped, blinking repeatedly like she'd just had a seizure.

 

When she spoke next, it wasn't compelled. She opened her mouth and sounded out the words and let them come to her. "I earned a chance from her. I hurt her, but she forgave me, and I made it up to her, and now she's being good to me. She's not afraid of me. She doesn’t resent me. She knows what it's like to hit rock-bottom and she got back up. I want that. I want her to look at me like she looks in a mirror, and sees only the good stuff instead of what's in the past. I want to be good for her…"

 

Then, quite quietly, Regina fell to her knees. "Hellfire."

 

"So… you don't wanna be bad anymore?"

 

Regina shook her head.

 

"And if you could it all over again? If Daniel died again…"

  
Regina looked at him, shocked, and her mouth seemed to work without her. "I'd run away to someplace no one had ever heard of me, where Cora and Gold and all the rest could never find me, and I'd start a new life. Someone else would fall in love with me, because back then I was worth being in love with. And I'd have a son. I'd want him to be just like you. I'd take care of him like I should've taken care of you. I'd… Henry, I'm _sorry._ "

 

He rushed in to hug her like a weight finally breaking free and dropping to the Earth.


	3. Chapter 3

Emma got back a little after ten. She'd left Regina and Henry to their quality time after a quick check-in, supposedly to bring them some bagel bites, but really just to make sure Henry wasn't going to run off to find his long-lost uncle in California or something. They'd seemed to be getting along well, so heck; Emma didn't know what she was doing. Why not leave them alone, let them iron things out? And she still had her birthday party to get to.

 

She'd ended up staying out a little later than expected. As lame as it sounded, bobbing for apples turned out to be a lot of fun. And since they'd already had the 'kid-safe' party earlier in the day, there was no reason Ruby couldn't give the birthday girl a special dance. Emma was pretty sure Ruby knew that, yes, she did enjoy the 'gag gift' on a very unironic level. But then, if she ever threw up cliterference for Belle, she was pretty sure the karma would be equal to punting a puppy. That girl needed a good lay.

 

She came through the front door and Regina was coming down the stairs to greet her. The former Mayor was actually—for once—a little relaxed. She'd kicked off her shoes and taken off her jacket and even unbuttoned her blouse a bit. And had she removed her make-up? Emma didn't know it came off.

 

"Emma," she greeted. "Out past curfew?"

 

"Napping off a few too many cupcakes. Why did I move to a town where everybody knows how to bake?"

 

"Let me get your coat," Regina said, taking it a little forcefully, but then, that was Regina Mills.

 

"You're in a good mood. Things are cool with Henry?"

 

Regina nodded, so enthusiastically happy that Emma almost could've giggled. She looked like a puppy, unpunted. "He wanted to watch a movie with me. It was too scary for him to watch alone and apparently, _I'm_ scarier than any monster, so he trusted I'd keep him safe." She looked insanely pleased with herself. Emma was just glad she was taking that the right way instead of all self-conscious and insecure. _Wonder if I had anything to do with that._

"It wasn't R, was it?"

 

"PG-13, just with, you know, monsters. Lots of blood and guts, very little swearing or nudity." Regina shook her head. "I'll never understand your people's preoccupation with such things. And then I put him to bed right at nine, on the dot."

 

"I'm letting Henry stay up until ten."

 

"Oh." Regina actually looked apologetic, instead of immediately calling into question Emma's parenting experience and lack thereof. "He didn't say anything about that. If he had, I would've—"

 

"It's okay. I trust you." Emma shrugged. "So, what, then you just watched him slept?"

 

"No, he wanted me to read him a bedtime story. And I know I shouldn't have, but he just kept asking me for another one and another one…" Regina's hand feebly raised to her heart, as if she wanted to put her hand on it in that familiar gesture, but instead she just clenched her fist in the air. "I think he really missed me, Emma. He missed _me._ "

 

"Cool."

 

"So cool," Regina agreed, a little sassily. "He's still up and he wants us both to tuck him in."

 

"Yeah, okay."

 

Regina grabbed Emma's hand and practically pulled her up the stairs. Emma, for her part, wondered if Gold had cast another spell on Regina. A few hours with Henry, just chilling, and she was like a different woman.

 

Or… well… like the same woman, just seen clearly. Without the 'you might be abusing my biological son and, by the way, he's my son, so there' filters.

 

Emma found herself wondering if, evil queen business aside, she hadn't been the bitch in all this. Sure, someone could be a mob boss or a pimp or something—but if you were an asshole to them, you were still an asshole.

 

Or something.

 

When Emma went into Henry's room, she found it could actually be described as tidy without Aubrey Plazalevels of sarcasm. Either Regina had cleaned up or she'd actually got Henry to clean his room. Either way, Emma needed to subscribe to her newsletter.

 

Henry was in bed, and Emma was a bit surprised that he wasn't back in the pajamas Regina had used to make him. Cripes, what was with Regina changing all at once? Was that all she'd needed, just a chance? Christ.

 

The former Mayor was on the other side of Henry's bed, plenty of space for Emma. She went over and sat on the mattress, feeling strangely intimate in being so close to Regina. It wasn't a sexual feeling, it was just something she hadn't expected to share. Like letting someone borrow your toothbrush, only way less gross.

 

"Hey Henry," Emma greeted, pulling his covers a little higher on his tiny body. "Regina get you all tucked in? Teeth brushed?"

 

"Yeah," Henry said drowsily. Even with all the late-afternoon birthday cake, there was only so much a sugar rush could do, and Regina'd been serenading him all evening. The kid was out of it. "Sing me a lullaby."

 

"Oh, uh… don’t you want Regina to do that?"

 

"I like your lullabies."

 

"It's okay," Regina said, and when Emma looked at her, she wasn't even making an effort. Homegirl was totally zen about it. "Go ahead. Please."

 

"Kid," Emma said, trying to sneak him the high sign, "are. You. Sure?"

 

"Please? I'll go right to sleep, I promise."

 

"Okay!" Emma tried to hide her disgruntlement. "I'll just, uh… go… ahead. With the lullaby."

 

Regina stared at her quizzically as she cleared her throat.

 

"Wichita," Emma began, "Witcha-witch-a-wichita Wild Wild West, Jim West, desperado, rough rider, no you don't want nada."

 

Though the hardest effort in her life, Emma managed not to look at Regina, but she could _feel_ the woman smiling. She carried on.

 

"None of this, six gunnin' this, brotha runnin' this, Buffalo soldier, look it's like I told ya, like any damsel that's in distress, be out of that dress when she meet Jim West."

 

***

 

Emma managed not to look at Regina until they got downstairs, Henry safely asleep. Then she saw that Regina still had a maniacal grin plastered on her face. It might be permanent.

 

"Look," Emma began, "I don't know a lot of lullabies and he asked!"

 

"No, it's cute. Adorable, really. Very endearing." Regina leaned against the wall, smushing her lips together instead of smiling. But the teeth were still under there, beaming away. "I'm trying to mock you for this and I can't. Disconcerting."

 

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll have some zingers for me tomorrow."

 

"No, I think I'll let it go. I'm sure you'll find some new things for me to make fun of."

 

"If not, you can always give me tequila."

 

"True. For now, I only have wine."

 

Regina led her to the kitchen, where indeed, Emma had left a bottle of wine and some plastic cups. Regina clicked her tongue at them and got some glasses from the cupboard.

 

"You learn your way around this place pretty fast," Emma observed.

 

"I might have done some minor safety-proofing. Your electrical sockets are in an abysmal state of repair…" Regina shook her head, but by now she was used to her truthfulness. "By the way, thank you for leaving us alone. If I were in your shoes, I don't know if I would've trusted for there not to be a kidnapping or something." She said it while pouring their drinks.

 

"Ha. Imagine that," Emma said guiltily. "Ha."

 

She drank.

 

"You know, I don't want to sound like I need a babysitter or something… stupid." Clearly giving up on that, Emma swilled her wine. "But I'm thinking there's gotta be a way we can both be Henry's mother without some kinda… dumb 'you get him on days that started with T' sorta… thing. Like, if he feels like it, he goes to your house, sends me a text that he's over there…" Emma shrugged helplessly. "What would be the big hairy deal?"

 

"I'd like that."

 

"And maybe we could do stuff together," Emma persisted. "Where's it written that if I take Henry to Red Lobster, you can't be there too? Or if we're having dinner, why can't one of us come over? I love your cooking!"

 

"I tolerate yours," Regina replied truthfully.

 

"Like, I don't know… breakfast. Tomorrow. You could be there, I'd be there, Henry'd be there. You can help me make waffles. I've got the hang of everything else, just not waffles."

 

"You put them in the toaster, then put syrup on them. It's not impossible."

 

"Really? You don't make waffles from scratch?"

 

"Please. I may be the Evil Queen, but I'm not Martha Stewart."

 

Emma laughed all the way to slapping her knee. Regina looked at her wine curiously. She wondered what the proof on it was.

 

"Okay, seriously now," Emma said in a burst of motion, crossing to the sink to wash out her empty wineglass. "I've got to ask you just one question before the spell is over, if that's okay."

 

"I'm listening."

 

"I just wanted to ask you how I feel about me, if that won't embarrass you or anything."

 

Regina thought about it. "It probably won't." She sounded uncertain.

 

"Because sometimes it's like we're arch-enemies, and sometimes it's like we can put up with each other, and sometimes it's like we're friends who just razz each other… I'm pretty sure we're friends, or friendly at least. But I'd like to know."

 

"Ask away."

 

Emma put the wineglass aside and faced her before asking "Regina, how do you feel about me?"

 

Regina sat down before answering. She crossed her legs, rested her hands on her thighs, and looked Emma squarely in the face. It reminded Emma of when she'd asked Regina about Snow White, only here, Regina appeared far less unwillingly. It was like she was easing a weight off her shoulders, setting it down nice and slow.

 

"I find you… intriguing. You're a good person, but that's so little in the grand scheme of things. I've seen good people do horrible things, but you… you understand the gray. You were dark once, or so close you could reach your hand out and touch it. But instead of letting it consume you, you learned from it. As much as I would imply you were in dire straits, you started out being raised in foster homes and have a teenage pregnancy in jail. And when I met you, you were a successful career woman.

 

"Then there's the matter of Henry. You had a life and you dropped it to take responsibility for him. As misguided as I found that, there is an admirable quality to it. And to your successful actions of late; breaking the Curse, slaying the dragon, escaping the Enchanted Forest, et cetera and et cetera…"

 

Only Regina Mills could reduce all that to 'yadda yadda yadda'. But still, Emma beamed a bit. She'd actually won over the Evil Queen. Hell yeah.

 

"You're a strong, confident young woman who takes care of herself and others. And as irritating as I may find your negative qualities, I find much more to admire in you. I like you, Emma Swan. And you have a cute ass."

 

Emma's brow furrowed. "Wait… what was that last part?"

 

"Nothing. Something about your ass being cute. Nothing," Regina's tongue tied itself in knots trying to get around the truth spell.

 

"Oh, I get it. You were making a joke."

 

Regina took the out and tried to nod, but it looked like she had a hernia. "Yes—but-your-ass-really-does-look-like-a-peach wrapped-in-denim."

 

"Hey, it's okay, I get it. You think I wear jeans a size smaller than my waistline because they're on sale? It's fine. It's not like you're attracted to me or anything."

 

Regina said nothing. She raised her hand to her head and probed the curve of her spine with her finger.

 

"Regina," Emma said softly. "Are you attracted to me?"

 

"Yes." Regina said it matter-of-factly, almost dully. Like she'd been run down after a long hunt and now the kill was being made.

 

"Why?"

 

" _Why_?" Regina repeated. "I just sang a _paean_ to your virtues. Is it that unbelievable that out of all the people who've come to care for you, I could be one of them? Emma, you saved my son. You saved me. And now, I'll thank you to excuse me. I must be going."

 

She stood and made for the door. Emma watched her go, shocked for a moment, and it was only when her legs were moving that she realized she was going after her.

 

"Regina, wait!"

 

"I don't have to do as you say," Regina returned, not even looking back. "Just answer your questions, and not even that soon enough."

 

"I'm sorry, Regina, okay? I didn't know." Emma stopped following her. "I didn't know you felt the same way."

 

With some satisfaction, she saw Regina slow to a stop. The woman didn't turn around, but she did hold herself still as Emma approached her once more. She held herself still as a statue.

 

"Don't say that," she hissed. "If you want something from me, say so, but don't say _that_ unless you mean it."

 

"I mean it." Emma said it like she was begging Regina, pleading with her. "I know you don't think you're worthy of love, but I see a million ways you are. I don't know if it's love or… I don't know _what_ it is, but I like being with you. I like being with you so much and I'm an idiot for not thinking of a better way to put it, but that's the truth, okay?"

 

"Okay…" Regina said softly.

 

"What do we do now?" Emma asked.

 

Regina shook her head. She didn't know.

 

"Do you still want to leave?"

 

"No."

 

Emma got closer. She felt ridiculous—like she was sneaking up a deer or something. But it was a good kind of ridiculous. "Do you want me to kiss you?"

  
Regina whirled around sharply. " _What?_ " she cried.

 

"Do you want me," Emma took a step closer, giving Regina time to process her words. But not much time. "To kiss." Another step brought her up against Regina, the former mayor seeming almost tiny without her high heels, even though Emma only had a few inches on her. But the way Regina shrunk away, shy as a virgin, made her seem smaller. "You?"

 

Regina took her time answering, licking her dry lips, looking down and then up again. Something in her seemed lost, and Emma wondered if she'd been kissed— _really_ kissed—since Daniel died.

 

She reached out to touch Regina's face; just a simple gesture of human contact, not anything to do with whether they kissed or not. The kind of touch Emma had found herself wanting to do more and more as the day had worn on, just connect with Regina, only a little bit, and show her she wasn't so alone. Not if she didn't want to be.

 

Regina felt Emma's touch and looked her in the eye. Her eyes were indomitable once more, fierce and powerful. For the first time, that didn't scare Emma even a little.

 

"Yes," she said.

 

Emma was gentle with her. She leaned in slowly, like the prince in one of Henry's stories, giving Regina plenty of time to close her eyes, part her lips, and arc up into Emma's touch. All of which she did almost immediately, leaving her lots of time to anticipate. Inwardly, Emma smirked. _Wait for it, Regina._

As soon as Emma's lips touched hers, Regina moaned hungrily. She was totally passive throughout the kiss, just letting their lips touch, like the moan was entirely involuntarily. But one arm was wrapped around Emma, hand bunched in her jacket. She was willing. More than that, she _needed_.

 

Emma pulled away slowly, watching Regina carefully. The queen stayed there with her eyes shut and her lips trembling, parted then closed, then back again.

 

"Do you want me to kiss you again?" Emma asked.

 

Regina's eyes opened. Emma had never been happier to see the devilish gleam in them. Without a second's delay, Regina captured the other woman in her arms, tipped her back like they were dancing, and kissed her like she'd been wishing for since she went through puberty.

 

Far too soon, Regina pulled back. "Yes," she muttered quickly, _truthfully_ , and went back to what she'd been doing so very well.

 

The next time, it was Emma that stopped them, though it took her a long, long time to do it. "Regina…" she said breathlessly. "What _else_ would you like me to do to you?"

 

Lowering her lips to Emma's ear, Regina told the truth.

 

Emma's eyes widened.

 

***

 

"Would you like me to add another finger, Regina?"

 

"Yes, yes, _yes!_ I'm cumming!" And Regina felt her body being wrenched from her control, given wholly over to her pleasure, her selfish and uninhibited pleasure.

 

"You're one woman who definitely doesn't fake the big moment," Emma said smugly above her. Justifiably smug.

 

Slowly, inch by inch, Regina's body was returned to her. To the soundtrack of her wilting moans. "No more, please… I can't…"

 

Emma was merciful. She pulled her hard-working fingers from inside Regina and brought them up to cup Regina's chin, holding her still for another kiss. Close enough for Regina to _scent._

 

"Wanna lick the spoon?" Emma asked and, abashedly, Regina did little more than nod. And open her mouth. "This is going to make the Henry thing harder."

 

Regina was too busy sucking Emma's fingers to answer, but she did give her a questioning look.

 

"Well. Now we're going to be ferrying him back and forth between our houses, going on dates as a family… when the hell are we going to find time to do this again?"

 

"We are doing this again?" Regina asked, part of her still not believing they'd done it the first time.

 

"Absolutely. I've made a list of all those things you whispered in my ear, and I am going to check them off one by one."

 

Regina shivered. Kissed Emma's hand. "Maybe we could tell Henry that one of our beds broke. We have to share."

 

"I like the way you think, Mills."

 

"I like the way you fuck me."

 

Emma laughed herself hoarse. "Yeah?"

 

"Yeah. With all the banging and the swearing and the creative means of drinking wine…"

 

"Do you love it?"

 

"Mmm-hmm."

 

"Do you love me?"

 

"Yeah." Regina grinned goofily. She'd surprised herself. A pleasant surprise, for once. "Yeah, I love you."

 

"I love you too." Emma nestled into Regina's arms. "I don't know why I'm telling you that, since you haven't even bought me dinner yet, much less taken me on a date—"

 

"Dinner, hell, I baked you an apple tart."

 

" _It was poison!"_

"Poisonously _delicious!"_

Emma laughed and snuggled closer to Regina, in case she had to suffocate her. "Tell me more about how you love me."

 

"Mmm." That she could do. Regina's head drifted back against the pillow. "I love your hair. It's very well-maintained. Quite bouncy. And it's really, really lustrous. Like gold spun into a wig."

 

"Cool." Emma closed her eyes. "How much do you love my ass?"

 

"So much. It's anal perfection."

 

Emma snorted. "Jesus!"

 

"And your eyes…" Emma opened them. Regina ran her finger along her cheek, drawing Emma's eyes up to her. "I'm trying to think of a comparison that's not the sky or the sea, that's so cliché…"

 

"I'm good with cliché."

 

"Your eyes are like when you light a candle, that blue flame right at the bottom. The hottest part."

 

Emma blushed. "C'mon. Quit it."

 

"Your lips," Regina said gently, "are like the mouth of a wine bottle. I can drink and drink and not be quenched, because the taste is so delicate that I must have more…"

 

"Oh God…" Emma buried her face in Regina's neck. "How much longer is this spell going to last?" Emma stopped then, lifting her watch up. Like her left sock, she hadn't quite managed to shed it while she was ripping Regina's clothes off and Regina was doing the same for her.

 

12:50.

 

She spoke the time out loud.

 

"That long?" Regina asked. "My, I am out of shape. I should've been good for at least another two hours."

 

Emma looked at her in shock. "Who was your last sex partner, Sting?"

 

"Well, I know a few spells…" Regina suddenly jerked upright, or as much as she could with Emma nestled on her chest like a lazy cat. "The spell! Gold said it would end at eleven!"

 

"Or a little earlier. You made that joke about premature ejaculation…"

 

"Emma, I swear, I didn't realize—everything I've said to you, about how I feel about you, it's the truth!"

 

"Regina, relax. I know. I've got my own little 'truth spell', remember?"

 

Regina let herself be laid back down. "Yes, but Gold's actually worked once in a while…"

 

"I trust you, okay? If you say you love me, I believe you." Emma's smile quirked. "Although… this does mean that when you said my eyes WERE LIKE A BLUE FLAME," she quoted melodramatically, "that was all you. Dork."

 

Regina blinked. "This is going to be a very interesting relationship."

 

"Just promise me one thing," Emma said, settling back on Regina's chest. "If anyone asks us about our first date, you lie your ass off."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I wrote a Swan Queen fic set on Emma's birthday and didn't include ONE SCENE where Emma and Regina stumbled onto a surprise party while trying to get naked. I'VE FAILED YOU, GODS OF TROPES!


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